First Anniversary
by tthalia
Summary: She saw him, laying there on the second string bench. Paramedics surrounded him as more swarmed in. -Troyella oneshot-


A/N: i got that plot, you can have the movie. ;)

**First Anniversary**

She exhaled deeply and rolled over to her other side. Her head was titled sideways as she intently stared at the

television in an intense, longing gaze. It looked as if she was beaming off into space at nothing in particular. But if that would be your assumption, you would be wrong.

She was not just staring at any old MTV music video. She was not gazing at anotherWar in Iraq news special. And she surely was not watching an ordinary sitcom. No, it was completely different than that. It was a basketball game. And a very special one at that.

See, if you knew this girl personally you would cock your head to the side while your jaw dropped in awe as your mind tried to wither around the idea of her watching a basketball game. Yes, it was true. She was not at all into sports.

She despised hockey. "Too violent, too strange." was her commentary towards a game. She didn't understand the concept of football, but did occasionally watch it to see cute boys in tight pants. The thought of a soccer game made her stomach churn in repulsion. And you could guess that baseball wasn't her sport either.

Sure she attended a charity game every now and then featuring one of the sports on her things-I-wouldn't-do list. But then again, that was for charity.

Now, basketball; basketball was another subject. It might be true that she looked down on the abomination of an extracurricular activity sometime long ago in her past. But for the last year, her life revolved around basketball.

It was, after all, _his _sport. _His _job. Part of _his _life, making it part of her life too.

But as she stared at the television set, mentally cursing the coach for dragging her husband away on this important day, her mind wandered off to past times and memories. She smiled as her eyes walked over to a picture of the two on their wedding day. It read 'Troy and Gabriella forever' on the bottom.

Her dress, elegant and beautiful.

His tux, classic and smooth.

The wedding, absolutely perfect. But then again, as she continued to soak on that particular day, she realized it wouldn't have mattered if it was 'the perfect wedding' because she was with him.

It could have been an uneventful wedding in her childhood home's attic with no guests, and no family and it still wouldn't have mattered because she would still be walking down the aisle to his smiling face.

She would still be kissing him at the end of their "I do's" and she would still be walking out as his wife.

Her eyes directed their full attention back on the television. Back on the game.

Then suddenly it happened. She saw him, laying there on the second string bench. Paramedics surrounded him as more swarmed in.

"Oh my God!" she shouted, jumping up from the bed her body had been so comfortably positioned on. Her head shot towards the clock in the right hand corner of the screen.

It was eight ten. First Quarter, thirty-six to nothing. His– no their, their team was winning and winning by a lot for that matter.

Her mind spun in a whirlwind of thoughts. She wanted to be there, she wanted to be with him. He was hurt and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't even be there for him. She couldn't even hold his hand.

"Troy..." she muttered, plopping back down on the couch when she finally realized there was nothing she could do to help him. He was in Ohio defending his team against the Cleveland Cavaliers. And she was in New York, cheering him on.

Her finger instinctively turned the volume up until her ears winced at the blare.

"Time out called for the New York Knicks." the announcer declared, "Superstar Bolton, number fifty-six, injured. We're waiting on the news whether he'll be participating any further in the game."

Minutes passed but for her it was hours. She sat there defensively praying for him to be alright. She winced at the thought of his injury being more than a sprained ankle.

"Oh God." she whispered, not audible for the human ear.

"The verdicts in." the announcer exclaimed, "Knicks' Captain, Troy Bolton is out of the game. On leave due to a serious injury. Details will be broadcasted live later. Now, back to the game." he finished as the timer buzzed.

She sat, quietly. Completely astonished as towards what had just happened. She wasn't sure what to do. All she wanted was to be with him. It was, after all, their one year anniversary. It was terrible enough that he had a game and couldn't be with her on their first anniversary but for something like this to happen on this day, the day she wasn't there, topped it all.

Her deep, chestnut brown eyes never once took their attention off of the television. Not even once. She gripped her cell phone tightly in her left hand and she clasped the house phone snugly in her right, hoping immensely for a call. A call that would console her worries that the love of her life was alright.

An hour flew past her like a speeding bullet. It was barely nine-thirty at night but her eyes dropped with exhaustion. She gently laid her head down softly on a pillow.

"_I'll just rest my eyes for a minute._.." she thought to herself. She closed her eyes as the sleep consumed her body. Her five-minute rest turned into an hour and a half long nap.

The sound of the front door closing was what woke her up. Her body thrashed forward as she looked at the clock.

"It's almost eleven o' clock!" she said loudly to no one specifically. The sound of footsteps wandering up the steps sent her head into overdrive with panic. The room was dark and so was the hallway. She quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed the closest thing to her for protection. A shoe.

She glanced down at the Stewart Weitzman stiletto heal that grasped in her hand and frowned unsatisfied.

She groaned.

A figure appeared at the frame of the bedroom door. She shrieked in fear and held up her shoe. The glare off of the television shined on her face.

"Gabriella?" the familiar voice asked, flipping on the overhanging lights.

"Troy!" she squealed, releasing her shoe and running into his arms. She leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He let one hand support her, rubbing her back as he kissed her cheek. While the other hand tucked tightly behind his back, clenching a bouquet of roses.

Her glance spotted the roses. She slid down from his arms and stood before him. He pulled the roses out from behind his back and handed them to her.

"I'm sorry I'm late." he said, looking down at his shoes.

"Aw, thank you." she muttered, grasping his lips in a tender kiss. "Don't be sorry. You're here and that's all that matters." He hugged her tightly until it finally came to her. "But, wait. The game and the paramedics? I saw it, you were hurt."

"Oh, yeah... that." he said, placing his hand behind his neck. "I faked it." he mumbled with a laugh.

"You what!?" Gabriella questioned in astonishment.

"Yeah, I wanted to be with you and the only way I would get out of the game was if I was hurt. So I might have faked an injury or two... or four." he said, making the last two words inaudible.

"Troy!" she yelled, slapping his shoulder softly. His hand clenched the spot where she had hit him, rubbing it up and down. "Don't you ever, ever, _ever _do that to me again!" she fumed, a smile seeping through her words. "But that was really sweet."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her body close to his, kissing the top of her head.

"Happy anniversary." he said softly, crashing both their bodies down onto the bed.


End file.
